Diary of a School Idol
by Janice.A
Summary: A collection of diary entries from Maki Nishikino. Her high school story will be all laid out: everything from romance, exams, and of course, becoming a school idol.
1. The start of a new journey

So, I'm not actually dead! Hopefully, I can start updating at a regular rate, instead of updating every few months... I'll try to get a new chapter out every week, but don't get your hopes too high... This fic. will consist of extremely short "diary entries" from Maki Nishikino. Like always, please tell me on what I can improve on. I hope you enjoy!

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Dear diary,

Tomorrow will be my first day starting at Otonokizaka High. Ergo, I am currently experiencing a queer combination anticipation and apprehension. I mean, who wouldn't? I'm going to have to start anew with people I have never met before, and still, I'm somehow expected to socialise, study, and do all of the other regular school things. In all honesty, it seems like a near-impossible task. Still, giving up before even starting would fail to make any form of sense, right?

Today as a whole was quite fair. I got up at 7, as per usual. I practised the piano, as per usual. Like every single day, the sun rose and set. Everything ran like clockwork. In fairness, what unusual things can I expect to experience in my life?

However, my mother asked me how I would go about adapting to the new school. I didn't have any plans, so I just said that I'd make decisions as opportunities came my way. It did get me thinking, though. Of course, my two loves in life; piano and academics, came to mind. I told my mother I'd avoid from joining any clubs, though, as it would detract time from my already packed schedule. However, a look of concern washed over her face, much to my confusion. I wished that I could process emotions a bit better, but upon further thought, I concluded that emotions are unnecessary aspects that will only hinder my overall performance in life.

I did manage to begin composing a new melody, though. Composing a pop song was a formidable task at first, as the structure for one is immensely different to any classical or jazz piece. Regardless, the chords flow well, but I've yet to write any lyrics. According to the internet, a good way to come up with lyrics is to find inspiration from the little things around me, but I doubt a song about medical textbooks will catch on...

Thus, tomorrow is a significant day, and I want to ensure to face it with unparalleled courage and prestige. However, I'd prefer to avoid any social interaction, due to my lack of expertise in the field. Regardless, I need to make the most of tomorrow. For now, I can only wish myself good luck.

\- Nishikino Maki


	2. Starting at Otonokizaka

I was actually feeling motivated, and managed to write the second chapter, which is twice as long as the first! Hopefully I can keep up the pace. As always, I hope you enjoy!

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Dear diary,

Today was my first day at Otonokizaka High. As I planned, I stayed quiet, and away from the crowd.

My mother drove me to school today. She commented that my bag was ridiculously heavy, and walking two kilometres with it planted on my back would be horrible. The drive was peaceful, with Chopin's Ballade in G minor playing gently through the radio. "My final piece at my previous school," I thought to myself. Outside, I saw many other students sporting a navy blue blazer, identical to one I was wearing. I noted the blue bow ties located right under some of their necks, and I knew at once that they were of my age. I also noticed the vast range of colours of hair the other students had. It was at that point when I realised my own hair was an unnatural shade of red. I mean, it wasn't the wildest colour a girl could dye her hair in this day and age, or at least that's what I believed when I saw a purple-haired girl with a green bow tie and voluptuous breasts...

Upon arriving at school grounds, it was apparent that the majority of the school had already heard about the arrival of the Nishikino family's daughter at such an average school. I overheard some mentioning my perfect walk and serene demeanour. It makes sense that my style of walking would be so formal, not only because of the family I grew up in but also because of my years of playing the piano, which emphasises keeping a straight back. I consciously attempted to keep walking in such a manner, only to trip on a step. I didn't fall over, but a lively girl with orange hair and a red tie approached me and asked if I was all right. I tried to keep my cool persona and replied that I was perfectly fine. However, my left shoe didn't come out unharmed, as a small scuff was now barely visible. To think that I had lost their perfect shine on day one... I pray that isn't an indication of how my future will look.

Unlike many of my classmates, I knew nobody. While they were already deep into conversation about how they had spent their holidays, I sat at the back of the classroom, going over my composition. Thankfully, nobody approached me, and nobody noticed my imperfect shoe.

Our teacher came in, and all the traditional "start of the school year" things were addressed. I had already prepared my introduction to the class, but as my surname is towards the end of the roll, I had plentiful time to run through what I was going to say. I kept reading my notes, over and over again. I was focusing so intently that I didn't answer our teacher when she called for me. Upon her third call of my name, I instantly shot up and felt shame running down my back. I managed to apologise to her in a sincere manner, but the graceless start to my speech ruined my flow, and I struggled to describe myself and my interests in an efficient manner.

Today's classes were quite mild, and they were also quite uneventful. However, I did manage to ask a teacher about the musical opportunities that would be provided, and I succeeded in booking a music room tomorrow afternoon. So, I've got something to look forward to. Even though I won't be part of a formal club, I'll at least be doing something productive after school hours.

Exiting the school building for the day, I couldn't help but notice the groups of people around me. There were distinct social separations, with people being grouped by personality or age. Perhaps that's why I decided to give up on making friends: there was nobody ever quite like me. My train of thought was interrupted by my mother, though, who had shown up at the exact time she told me she would be arriving. I hopped into the car and was homebound.

My mother, as one would expect, asked me how my day was. I told her that everything was going as per plan and intentionally did not mention the incidents regarding my shoe and class introduction. The topics of friendships were brought up, and I replied by saying I had not made any form of conversation to my classmates in the slightest. She seemed content, but almost sad. "Well, as long as you're happy, Maki," she told me.

As long as I'm happy, huh? Well, it's not like I can complain. I'm on the path to becoming a doctor and succeeding the family hospital chain, and I've got my piano to turn to when I'm not at my best. If life stays as it is, everything will turn out accordingly. My life will go just how I planned it to be.

\- Nishikino Maki


	3. Getting used to Otonokizaka

Ah, chapter three! Hopefully I can keep updating every few days from now on, and as you can see, my average length is increasing (hooray!). As per always, tell me what you all think, and what errors I made. I hope you enjoy.

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Dear diary,

Today was my second day at Otonokizaka. I've become far more accustomed the grounds of the school, and I've managed to transfer all my books into my locker.

I woke up a bit earlier than usual this morning. Not being able to return to slumber, I decided to practice some basic piano exercises. I started with some scales I haven't played in years, but soon found myself lost in improvising some pieces. Sadly, my musical morning was cut short by the need to prepare for school. Ah, the moments where I wish time would just freeze for a moment. Sadly, that wish was one that could not be granted, so I reluctantly closed the fallboard and began my routine of school preparation. I stepped into the warm, welcoming shower, and prepared a basic breakfast for myself. Putting on my shoes, I noticed the scuff mark I created the day before. I made a mental note to polish my shoes after school and hoped that my luck today would be at least a tad better.

Thankfully, my mother offered to drive me to school once more. She proposed driving me to and from campus for the first week, so to make transitioning into Otonokizaka a bit easier. I gratefully accepted her offer, and silently rejoiced at the idea of being able to stay asleep for an extra fifteen minutes or so. With my sheet music in hand, I relaxed in the car, imagining what today could hold.

Upon arriving at school, similar comments to the day before were made. I understand that the Nishikino family is known for their wealth and high social class, but is it really that surprising that I decided to come here? It's not like my parents forced me to come here; the truth couldn't be further away from that. Both my mother and father allowed me to choose where I wished to continue my education. Naturally, I wanted a school that was in walking distance, so that heavily narrowed my choices. I wanted a quiet school, as I was tired of the high-profile life I was brought up in. Unfortunately, my plan didn't seem to go quite the way I wanted. I am still treated in a different manner to everyone else, perhaps not only because of my family background but also my unemotional attitude. However, I refuse to change who I am just to be treated the way I want to be. Everything comes at a price, I guess.

Today's classes were a breeze, just like yesterday. I had already studied what we are going to be covering in our maths curriculum, putting me at a heavy advantage to my classmates. Hopefully, I can continue my trend of achieving near-perfect marks on every exam.

During our lunch break, I discovered the school library. It's a humble establishment, but it serves its purpose. I was never one to read too many novels, but the undisrupted silence offered makes it a very attractive place to wind down. Browsing through the shelves, I quickly located a book about musical composition and found myself sitting comfortably on a couch reading.

After school, I saw on the bulletin board various advertisements for clubs. There was the archery club, swimming club, robotics club, and pretty much every other typical high school club, but I merely breezed passed them and headed towards the music rooms. I had booked a room for essentially the entire term, as there were very few advanced musicians at the school. The door was left unlocked, as I expected, and inside, I saw a beautiful grand piano. A large green chalkboard with staves on it was situated at the back of the room, and large windows allowed plentiful natural light to enter. Sitting on the stool placed neatly in front of the piano, I saw a layer of dust suddenly lift. Everything seemed to be covered in dust, indicating the room had not been used in a while. Not wanting to be in such an environment, I decided to try and clean the room.

Unfortunately, my efforts just seemed to relocate the dust. Assuming that the dust would eventually go away over time once I started using the room, I began practising. I probably played for at least two hours straight and refined my execution of one of my favourite pieces, Chopin's Winter Wind Etude. I really have a bit of bias towards Chopin, don't I? Perhaps a Bach piece would be nice to study one of these days...

By the time I left the room, the school was relatively empty. There were a few clubs scattered around, but I didn't see anyone that I recognised. My mother, once again, arrived right on time. It's a bit uncanny how perfect she is. Regardless, today was a productive day, and I would have to admit that I am enjoying Otonokizaka. I can't wait for tomorrow!

\- Nishikino Maki


	4. One week at Otonokizaka

I actually wrote over 1000 words! To be honest, I'm feeling a bit burned out with this story, and I may be writing something different next time. That's not to say this story is over, but rather, the next document I will publish won't be a continuation of this story.

Also, a lot more piano-related things are mentioned in this chapter. For the most part, somebody without any musical experience will be able to understand the majority of the terms I used. Furthermore, most of the pieces I mention (and have mentioned) appear in Your Lie in April, an anime series which sits among my favourites (and I highly recommend watching it if you haven't already), and all are easily found through a Google search. Once again, I hope you enjoy!

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Dear diary,

Today marks the end of my first week at Otonokizaka High School. Quite certainly, it was an interesting set of seven days. A lot has been achieved in this period of time. For starters, there's the obvious, starting a new chapter of my life at Otonokizaka. I've also been granted, for all practical purposes, ownership to a music room. Furthermore, against all expectations, I managed to compose and write lyrics to a pop song.

Said song was actually inspired by the events of today. Our music class ended a few minutes before the bell signalling the commencing of lunch rang. Not wanting to let the time pass in an unproductive manner, our teacher gestured to the upright piano sitting in the corner of the room asked us if anyone here could play any songs. After a few of my classmates tried and failed at playing Für Elise and Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, I announced my capability at playing an advanced piece. Thankfully, our teacher called everyone off, and I was soon sitting on the stool, fingers primed to play. Feeling pressured by the fact I announced I could play an "advanced" piece, I went for one of the hardest pieces I had memorised, Chopin's Etude Opus 10, No. 12, the "Revolutionary" Etude.

I wasn't prepared in the slightest, and I could feel pain rising in my left hand as I played the torrent of semiquavers. I pushed on forward, attempting to channel that feeling of anger Chopin had poured into the piece. As I progressed, my right hand became increasingly dominant, and it began to mask the errors I was making with my left. Bar by bar, I approached the final section of the piece. Both my hands ran down the keyboard, my fingers relentlessly hammering the keys. Adrenaline circulated through my body, leading to me sounding the final few chords far harder than they should have been. Chopin would've been disappointed with my performance, but he thankfully wasn't a member of the audience.

After the final chord rang out, I was met only with silence. Panic rushed through me. "Had I made a mistake? Was I off time? Was I playing in the wrong key?" Those thoughts raced through my mind as I nervously turned around. I saw that the classroom was suddenly filled with far more students of various year levels. A few more teachers were also inside. After a few more seconds of daunting silence, I was met with great applause. It seemed that my performance had stunned them all. Admittedly, it was a Chopin Etude, but I couldn't help but feel a bit smug.

The bell rang out, disbanding the crowd. I stepped away from the piano and restored it to its static state. I gathered my belongings and proceeded to exit the classroom. However, I was soon called aside by a high, soft voice.

"Nishikino-san!", said the voice. Naturally, I turned to see the source of the voice, and I identified the individual as Koizumi. This was the first time she had approached me. She was a tad shorter than me, and I found the way she looked up to meet my eyes somewhat endearing. Her voice was beautiful, and she could certainly become a singer if she underwent appropriate training. Alas, she failed at projecting her speech, and I had reasonable difficulty interpreting what she was saying.

I remember her complimenting my performance, but nothing of any true merit was said. After a period of silence, her friend, Hoshizora joined us. Similarly to Koizumi, this was the first I had ever spoken to her. Her personality seemingly contrasted Koizumi's in nearly every way. While Koizumi was quiet and reserved, Hoshizora was loud and boisterous. Regardless, they appeared to be such close friends. I made the deduction that regardless of differences, people can come together and harmonise, just like the notes of a melody. People can love each other despite being completely different.

After a period of silence, Hoshizora pulled Koizumi away by the hand and they disappeared into the corridors. Realising I too needed to vacate the classroom, I slowly walked outside. Passing by my locker, I headed towards the library. Sitting in my usual couch, I pulled out my laptop and opened the document containing my lyrics. A disorganised mass of words lay in front of me. Anticipating the perpetual cycle of deleting everything only to write something even worse, I selected all the text on the screen. However, something held me back. My encounter with Koizumi and Hoshizora remained in my mind. Perhaps it was Koizumi's beauty or Hoshizora's confidence, but I couldn't stop thinking about them. And that's when I decided to write a love song, of sorts. Amazingly, the melody I had been composing fitted perfectly, and I had officially written my first pop song. Sadly, my celebrations were cut short by the bell signalling the end of lunch break. Once more, I was bound for my locker, but this time, I walked with a slight smile on my face.

After school, I couldn't help the wave of satisfaction running through me. Inside my music room, I sat on the stool and smiled for a good few minutes. I had proven my prowess at playing the piano, held a conversation with two of my classmates, and finished writing the lyrics to my first pop song. Wanting to express this emotion, I played Erik Satie's Je te veux. Every movement I made, whether it be flowing journey of my hands or the gentle pressure applied to the pedals, was completed with pure elegance.

As I exited the school for the final time this week, I stopped for a second. I was standing right outside the school, mere metres away from the road. I turned around, seeing the great brick building that was Otonokizaka High School. Sure, only a week had passed, but I believe something special has happened this week. My mother soon arrived to pick me up, and I merrily entered the car. She evidently noticed my positive mood and asked me what I was so delighted with. I told her a white lie, saying that I was merely feeling happy for no apparent reason.

However, the truth resonated inside of me. Music is my love, and being able to express it and create it brings me joy. Music is a part of who I am, music creates and shapes my life, music brings people to me. I only know this because of Otonokizaka, and for that, I am grateful. Thank you, Otonokizaka, for bringing this truth to me. Perhaps one day I shall compose a piece just for you; a piece about my love for this school. One day, I vow to make that happen.

\- Nishikino Maki

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A/N:The song Maki writes is Aishiteru Banzai. I wanted to write about lyrics themselves a bit more, but because of the differences in translations, I decided not to.


	5. Becoming an idol?

Looks like I am capable of continuing!... I don't know how far I can take this series, but I definitely seem to be doing fine for now.

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Dear diary,

Today was an certainly a peculiar day. Well, not all of today was. It would be unfair to judge an entire set of twenty-three hours, fifty-six minutes and four seconds based on a singular incident that caught me off guard. Or perhaps, it would be. After all, my life revolves around schedules and plans, so should something surprising occur, it makes sense that it would stand out. It has been on rare occasions that have I scored below ninety percent on an exam, and below eighty has yet to exist. So should I fail to reach those standards... Well, my parents wouldn't very impressed with their daughter.

All my life I've been treated as the princess of my household. Whenever I needed or wanted something, someone was bound to do something about it. Everything I could ask for was available to me. Of course, in retrospect, it would be impossible for any family to sustain a child for very long under those circumstances. Yet, growing up with the Nishikino name, those circumstances have been my protection from the world. In a way, they have given me freedom, they have given me power. It is because of this freedom that I have become who I am. These rules have formed me, shaped me to fit its ways. Its as if they are a mould, and I am the glazed, ceramic pot that has emerged. The mould is not a part of me, but the existence of one is clear. It is something I cannot escape from, nor I have control over.

Ah, what am I saying?... My mother told me to write a diary to keep myself organised, not to have weird philosophical reflections on my existence.

Well, all of my classes were fine. I have to write an essay regarding the roles of samurai in Shogunate Japan. While it is enlightening, I can't say I was particularly thrilled to get started on my research. I'd much rather be in the chemistry lab, or peering through a telescope analysing the cosmic dance of the planets circling the ball of life that we dub the Sun. I guess that's one thing my parents can't change for me.

But what really startled me happened after school. As per usual, I was practising playing the piano. I was playing the song that I had written, as I have no confidence singing at home. My parents would probably complain, especially because it was by no means a professional production. I let the final chord ring out, only to find the orange-haired senior that I met a few weeks ago clapping furiously at the door. Her face filled the window, and without warning, she stormed in. I would like to say we had a conversation, but it was far from that. She started by praising my performance and went on to compliment my appearance. I faltered for a second, but I quickly regained my composure. Feeling uncomfortable due to her intrusion, I attempted to leave peacefully, only for her to suddenly ask if I wanted to try becoming an idol. My knowledge of pop music has always been incredibly limited, but I have never placed my interests in so-called 'idol' music. And as a first-year high school student?... How preposterous! My parents would never approve of it. Somewhat rudely, I dismissed her appeal. I proceeded to head to my locker to pick up my bag and began walking home. As illogical as it sounds, I couldn't stop thinking about that girl. Why was she so desperate for me to join her? I'm not a particularly good singer, and I wasn't playing a very difficult piece. It has been weeks since I had my impromptu performance; it wouldn't make sense for her to scout me now, even if she was part of the audience.

I eventually let those thoughts pass and calmed my mind once again. I have travelled to and from school by foot for a while now, and it's certainly a refreshing experience. While I do miss the luxury of an undemanding morning, the energetic feeling I have when homeroom starts is far than enough to compensate. I arrived home, and mother greeted me at the door. She asked why I was back so early, but I replied by saying that I was exhausted from today's happenings. Evidently, she wasn't convinced. There was no harm in telling her the truth, right? I told her that someone from an older year level had asked me if I wanted to become an idol. I explained that I was merely taken aback by her sudden request and that becoming an idol would be far out of my character. As such, I came home to rest and forget about the encounter. But to my surprise, she didn't completely despise the idea.

Instead, she asked why I didn't join her. I retaliated by saying that despite my musical expertise, I have no interest in pop music. And to perform as a singer?... There's no way I could do that. I know I have studied ballet in the past, but the style of idols is something I never truly understood. Their clothing choices are most certainly indecent, and most songs revolve around the same four chords. What would becoming an idol do for me? It would barely improve me as a pianist. If anything, it'll hinder me from completing advanced studies, and perhaps interfere with my normal life. It would get to the point where my grades would suffer. There's no way I could become an idol.

In any case, my conversation with mother ended identically to the talk we had after my first day at Otonokizaka. "As long as you're happy, Maki," she told me. But what does it mean for me to be happy? Is it academic excellence? Is it being able to play some of the hardest Chopin études? Is it the satisfaction of knowing I'm one of the highest performing students in all of Japan? What do I do that makes myself happy?

...

And here I go again trying to add philosophy to what should be a recount of what I achieved today. My life has to continue the way it has. I'm Nishikino Maki, the daughter of a renowned family. I'm the daughter of a family of doctors, and to fail to become one myself would tarnish the name of my family. I must uphold this honour and not get distracted by the idea of becoming an idol. My time with the piano is running out, as I'll soon have to focus all of my time on taking medical studies. This is my life. This is who I am. This is who I am destined to be. All I can do is love my life for what it is.

As long as I'm happy.

\- Nishikino Maki


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